My blog--I pull a card--if it doesn't speak to me...perhaps it is for you?
I pull a card...if it doesn't speak to me...perhaps it was meant for you? |
How to Read the Tarot
Begin by brewing a cup of tea,
a nervine, lemon balm or chamomile,
this is after all, your future.
A reading at the dark of the moon is best,
before the night creatures crawl
and bad humours fill the air.
Pick a circular deck, with a fairy-tale motif,
and no reversals.
Hold a question in your heart,
shuffle the cards and place them on the table.
Choose only two.
Like the ancient Israelites,
these are your seer stones, Urim and Thumimm,
black and white, yes or no.
Isn't that all you were asking?
|Baba Yaga's Cat
I want to come back
as Baba Yaga's cat
and save all the young girls
with flowers in their hair.
The #metoo movement
is not a fairytale.
But I think that old, skinny witch
will let me weave
rainbows on her loom,
to guide them home.
There will be no pot of gold at trail's end,
just safety, and sun
Author's Note: Baba Yaga is a Slavic witch who may be evil, but just as well benign to those that are brave and pure of heart. In one tale Baba Yaga's cat helps a young innocent girl escape the witche's kettle. I think BABA knew all along.
Tarot of the Crone--Grandmother of Disks--Homemaker--Build love into the world, sustain it with your hands.
the Northern Lights
are a crown of jewels
atop our blue globe.
Turn your face
to the falling rain.,savor the taste
and the blessing.
We still have time
to turn everything around.
Release your dreams.
Tarot of the Crone--Ace of Cups--Grace--The seeds of beautiful dreams are planted in you.
I could not find
a scrap of beach glass
or even a smooth hag stone
on the spit of sand
bayside on the causeway.
I watched a father
tie himself to an inner tube
and tow his red-haired daughter through
the brackish water.
He looked like a young Neptune
pulling a reluctant Ariel
back to the sea.
I wondered if he knew
that he would forever
to her heart.
Tarot of the Crone--Nine of Swords--Speak truth to power. Speak truth to love.
The pool is empty of people
on this Easter Monday,
the water glassy, warm,and buoyant
as a float tank.
I drift into oblivion
my only thoughts
of death and transfiguration.
I twirl widdershins and deosil,
my arms heavy as wet angel wings.
I limit my time,
my skin crisps too easily now
and the mockingbirds are taunting me.
I promise I will plant them
a magnolia tree on the ridge,
a safe haven for their fledglings.
In spring, a young girl may come
to pluck the waxy, fragrant flowers
and braid them in her hair.
Tarot of the Crone--Shadow of Cups--Drowning--A powerful emotion has flooded all boundaries. Broken down all solid ground.